


The start of an avalanche

by Bacner



Series: Adventures of Vampire Slayers in London [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Celtic Mythology, Harry Potter (Fandom) - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Faith is more than what she looks, Gen, London, new trouble is coming, tiger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:29:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bacner/pseuds/Bacner
Summary: A small stone can start a great avalanche. What if the stone isn't that small to begin with? What will it start?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to their respective owners.

Several hours ago, when Priya Koothrappali was still flying from India to England on a plane, Faith LeHane – also known as V’iera Nocturna LeStrange – was sitting in her room and watching the sunset through her window.

“There are four times of particular power in each twenty-four hours daily,” she remembered her Watcher telling her seemingly a long time ago – and for her, it was a long time ago, far longer than a mere flow of years and months, for Faith or V’iera, whether a Vampire Slayer or witch, was thinking in terms of experience.

“There are four times of particular power in each twenty-four hours daily, each one marking a beginning of change: sunrise, sunset, midnight and noon,” Faith whispered to herself. “Noon – the start of the end of the day. Midnight – the start of end of the night. Sunrise – the start of the day. Sunset – the start of the night.”

“How wise you are, o saffron-robed one, how astute and prudent!”

Slowly, Faith turned around. She had not heard this person speak in a long, long time, but this mocking, angular, seemingly fragile voice was not something that one could forget even in a long time.

“Morgan le Fay – duchess of Cornwall, queen of Gore,” Faith said in a voice that was low rather than threatening. What paths have brought you here tonight, your grace and Majesty?”

“Stop it,” Morgan said imperiously, as she shifted into a more comfortable position on Faith’s chair. “You forgot that as a mistress of Julius Caesar I could’ve staked a claim to the Roman Empire when it was still a republic!”

“My bad,” Faith shrugged as she sat down on her table instead. “So what brings you here tonight instead? You want to declare that your share of Roman Empire was Britain and you’re going to claim it now?”

“Very funny,” Morgan said dryly, “if I ever want to have a permanent jester in my court-“ she caught Faith’s own dark gaze, and there was something lurking in its depths that even the half-fairy sorceress quickly changed her mind about the punchline, “-it most certainly won’t be you, saffron-robed one.”

“And yet, now that we got that out of the way?” Faith pressed on, drumming her fingers on the tabletop from nerves.

“I’m bored,” Morgan said simply. “With that boy Riddle dead, I feel boredom upon me, and despair born upon that boredom – one that is so intense, that I haven’t felt anything like it since Arthur fell upon the field of Camlann.”

“You loved him?” Faith asked, curious despite herself. 

“That matters not,” Morgan said sharply, as she leaned forwards in the deepening sunset shadows. “I’m bored. Don’t make me use force and magic of names to make you amuse me!”

“I see,” Faith leaned forwards, straight into Morgan’s eyes. She was sitting before the sunlit window beyond which the sun was sinking beyond the horizon. As a result, half of Faith’s face was dark, covered in shadow, but half was colored red by the setting sun. “Very well. You want amusement? Go to St. Mungo’s. Find the patient named Verte Lovegood. Aid her. She’ll amuse you!”

“Verte Lovegood?” Morgan repeated, all but tasting the name. “I think that the winds might’ve whispered of that name and of the exploits connected with it. I think that you did what I asked you to!”

And then she vanished, even as the sunset (and across London Priya’s flight had finally touched the ground) came to an end, replaced by evening and eventually by the night.

“So,” Faith said wearily, as she got off the table and into an armchair, “it begins.”

_TBC_


	2. Chapter Two

Several hours later, when Priya was busy telling Faith and Giles of her misadventures in the foothills of the Himalayas, the building of St. Mungo’s was dark and quiet, looking almost deserted. Well, not really, since many of its patients could not go home at night, and quite a few members of the staff could not leave either. 

Verte Lovegood, the big sister of Xeno Lovegood, and Luna Lovegood’s aunt, was one of them – the patients, that is. Subdued and put into an almost permanent sleeping trance, she was forced to live the rest of her life here not for her magics and magical experiments, which, admittedly, were quite foul, but because of political treason – long ago she chose to join Grindelwald in his war against Britain and Dumbledore, and for that – just for that – she should’ve been imprisoned in Azkaban, once Grindelwald died and she was imprisoned. 

But she was not. Her parents (and brother) were pureblooded and politically influential and rich enough to soften her sentence to a permanent incarceration in St. Mungo’s instead, provided that she remained sufficiently docile and submissive. A series of potions and spells provided that, but they also had one unexpected side effect: they slowed Verte’s age significantly, even by the standards of the wizards, who could often live for decades before aging and dying – but Verte was someone else.

Right now, that someone else was in a trance, seeking the new moth (or rather butterfly) in the lands of dream – all in vain. For many weeks – all in vain. The Gryffindor-red butterfly had vanished, and Verte was too out of practice to successfully seek her out. 

“Where are you, where?” she hissed as she slid through the flowering fields of dreams.

“You’re not talking about me, are you?” spoke a tall, haughty-looking sable-tressed beauty as she appeared seemingly out of thin air. And though Verte had never seen her before, she recognized the newcomer at once:

“Queen Morgan!” Verte half-cried half-hissed. “Why are you here, with the likes of me?”

“I have heard of you once,” the ancient sorceress replied, kneeling to face Verte eye to eye, “I heard of your exploits, and I want for you to do them once again, I want you to be free!”

“That might need some doing,” Verte said plainly. “I’m bound by potions and magic, and even I need some help in breaking out of them.”

“This can be done,” Morgan said, as she grabbed Verte. “Purge!”

Back in the real world, outside the world of dreams, Verte’s eyes opened suddenly as she became fully awake – and purged of the magics that had been bounding and weakening her for several decades.

“I’m free,” she whispered excitedly as she got onto her feet and walked to the door of her cell. “My little Gryffindor butterfly, I’m coming for you!”

...Halfway across London, Faith and Giles were hiring Priya as the Council’s new lawyer, while in another direction, Hermione Grainger just slept on.

End


	3. Chapter Three

The tiger was big, powerful, and very old. It was red, white and black all over – very much like a dragon’s secret identity, really. It was busy pawing the ground, but as soon as it saw Parvati, it abruptly stopped and said, rather cheerfully:

“Hello, Parvati!”

“Hello, venerable ancestor,” Parvati bowed politely, not bothering to ask where her twin was: whatever the Weasleys would say about themselves, the Patil twins did not share dreams, thank you very much; in fact they would rather not share anything between themselves, period...

On the other half, visits from the venerable ancestor of the Patil family tree was something else, and so Parvati still did half-expect for Padma to make an appearance.

“Don’t worry about your twin,” the tiger said, not unkindly. “I am talking to the two of you separately, for I know that the two of you do not get along.”

“Well...” Parvati had the good grace to fidget, “we would get along seeing how you’d summon us...”

“No need,” the tiger shook its head. “Look! What do you see?”

Parvati looked down – wait a second, down? “We’re on the summit of Alagalla! We’re in Lanka!”

“Yes, Parvati, we are,” the tiger did a very good job of not rolling its eyes. “Now, what else do you see? Or rather, who do you see?”

“Well,” Parvati looked down in the indicated direction, “that... Grainger, Hermione Grainger. What is she doing?”

“Hiding,” the tiger said calmly. 

“Hiding in plain sight? Under that ridiculous hat?” Parvati blinked incredulously. “This seems to be rather unlike Grainger... and what is she doing in Lanka anyways?”

“She is not here, not yet,” the tiger said calmly, “but she is coming here all the same, soon, for she will be found and brought here.”

“By what? Or by whom?” 

“By that,” the tiger nodded calmly, as a new character came, or rather crawled out of the forest – a huge naga, currently in its human-headed serpent form. 

“Hmm,” Parvati frowned thoughtfully. The naga’s human head bore a face that seemed to be familiar to the young witch, but not fully, since she could also swear that she had never seen this face before in her life too. “Do I know who that is?”

“No,” the tiger shook his head. “That is for your grandparents to tell you, if you would listen.”

“Oh dear,” Parvati shivered: the war with Voldemort did create a rift between the Patil twins and their grandparents. “That might be tricky.”

“Isn’t it always?” the tiger agreed placidly, even as the naga crawled back into the forest, apparently unable to see Grainger even though the bushy-haired witch was standing (or “hiding”) in plain view. “There is one more person that you need to see, who may be important in the future.”

“Who?” Parvati asked even as she looked in the indicated direction, expecting to see, perhaps, another naga or another familiar face. Instead, she saw a fin of a very large (to put it lightly) shark that cruised in the waters around Lanka. “Who is that? Someone I know? A friend or a foe?”

“Someone new,” the tiger replied instead. “And now it’s time to wake up.”

And that is what Parvati did.

_End?_


End file.
